


don't be a baby pt. 2

by AnnaRose26



Series: don't be a baby [1]
Category: 6U - Fandom, 6Underground, Ben Hardy - Fandom, Ben Jones - Fandom, Four - Fandom, billy - Fandom
Genre: 6u - Freeform, 6underground - Freeform, Angst, Ben Hardy - Freeform, F/M, Lots of Angst, badassery and yearing, ben jones - Freeform, billy - Freeform, but soon - Freeform, four - Freeform, there's no smut yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:34:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22795624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnaRose26/pseuds/AnnaRose26
Summary: After losing Billy, Reader doesn’t know what to do with herself. After receiving some news about a millionaire who’s been murdering people, she convinces Billy’s old Sky Walker crew to train her so she can take him down. But the mission doesn’t go as planned and suddenly, there’s a man offering her a position on an elite team…
Relationships: Ben Hardy & You, Ben Hardy/Reader, ben hardy x reader - Relationship, billy x reader, four x reader
Series: don't be a baby [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638871
Kudos: 20





	don't be a baby pt. 2

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! Pt. 2 of don't be a baby, thank you for your patience as I work on making sure this story is absolutely perfect. I wanted to do justice to both Billy and (Y/N) and give them the love story they DESERVE. And don't worry...there will be a third part :) 
> 
> 💖💖As always kudos and comments are always appreciated 💖💖

_365 days._

_That’s not a long time._

_A year on Neptune is the equivalent of 164 years on Earth. Bowhead whales can live up to 200 years. The Methuselah tree is 4,700 years old._

_365 days is nothing._

_What’s one lousy year in the grand scheme of things?_

_Compared to one day._

_24 hours to have your whole world ripped out from underneath you. To believe that up is down and down is up. To feel your feet leave the earth as you pitch forward into a tunnel where time passes both far too quickly and not quickly enough._

_One 30 second phone call can feel like the longest thing in the world._

_To some, 365 days may not feel all that long, but to others?_

_365 days is far too long._

**_~One Month After the Funeral~_ **

“(Y/N)? It’s me. You doing okay?” Mark winced when he realized how dumb that question was. 

Setting the bags of food down on the kitchen table, he opened the fridge. His heart clenched when he saw the food he had put there a week ago sitting untouched. 

It had been the worst right after the funeral. When he came over on the days following the funeral she would be in the same clothes he had last seen her in, staring at the wall or ceiling. On good days her cheeks would be dry, on bad days? The tears would soak her pillow case. 

He had nicked Mary, Billy’s sister’s, number from (Y/N)’s phone. Figuring that Mary may have some professional resources she could recommend to get (Y/N) the help she desperately needed to pick herself back up. 

After a few weeks of her catatonic state, she started moving more. But it was almost worse. She was like a zombie. 

He’d tell her maybe she should shower or eat and in slow robotic movements she’d do what he asked, then crawl back into bed. Eyes empty. Flat. 

The passivity broke his heart. 

There hadn’t been a time when Mark and (Y/N) had been growing up when she wasn’t passionate about something. When that familiar light in her eyes had burned bright. 

Without it, it felt like looking at a mannequin of his sister. 

Sighing, he loaded the new food into her fridge. Taking the old stuff out he figured, if it wasn’t moldy, he could feed it to Jean, who was like a human garbage disposal. He claimed grief made him starving. 

As Mark stood up, he faced the bedroom door and felt his shoulders slump forward. He knew what was waiting for him on the other side and he didn’t want to see it. He knew he was a coward but part of him just wanted to walk out the front door and pretend that his sister was on the other side, totally fine, she was just sleeping and he’d come back next week and she’d greet him with a smile and a hug. 

Something he hadn’t seen in, well, in a month. 

Feeling his shoulders creep up towards his ears as he stood outside her bedroom door, he made a conscious effort to relax them. 

“Hey, (Y/N), you awake?” 

Nudging the door open, he peered into her room, taking stock of it. It looked exactly the same as last time he had checked on her. The soft rise and fall of her side underneath her blanket the only movement. Taking a moment to capture how serene she looked, he quietly closed the door behind him, taking a minute to send up a plea that he would do anything, anything, for his sister if it just meant that one day he’d see her up and out of her bed. 

~

A buzzing by her ear woke her up. Groaning, she slapped her hand around the bed, trying in vain to stay semi-unconscious. The buzzing came faster, one right after the other, reminding her of how her phone had acted the day Billy’d died. Heart dropping through the floorboards, her eyes flew open.

Sitting up and shoving the blankets back in one quick motion only caused her to hear a loud thud. Cursing, she crawled over to the edge, allowing her top half to go limp as her bottom half stayed put on her bed. 

Pushing her hair back with one hand she turned her phone over to see what was happening. News alert after news alert was scrolling in. They all said the same thing, 

_Local Billionaire Accused of Dumping Toxic Waste in Ocean._

Her eyebrows knitted together as she read the remainder of the story. There was something tugging at her subconscious as she read. This billionaire, Chase Casewell, had a reputation for being a real prick and after using his family’s money to get through business school and have his first idea fail (an app that told Influencers when the best time to post would be) he had made his millions by starting a brand that specialized in shoes, ugly beige monstrosities if she remembered correctly. 

It had just come out that he had instructed the plants that made his shoes to dump the waste into the ocean. The chemicals they’d used had poisoned the water supply, causing the fish to become infected with the chemicals. Then, the local fisherman would catch the fish, take them home to their families, eat them, then the fishermen and their families would end up in the hospital. 

Her hospital.

She sat bolt upright as she remembered the string of mysterious illnesses that had ended up in her ward a few weeks before she had met Billy that first time. If the victims were lucky, they ended up puking their guts out for a few days and, after being hooked up to an IV to re-hydrate, she’d send them on their way.

Others would linger for a few days then quietly slip away. The chemicals flowing through their bloodstream till their veins ran thick with poison, where it finally creeped up to their heart where the poisons would wrap themselves around their most vital organ. Suffocating it until it gave out entirely. 

The one that had affected her the most was Isabella, a small girl with dark braids and a love of Frozen. The only thing that’d make her smile was when (Y/N) would come in with a stuffed Olaf and have him ask her for a warm hug. She had been holding this little girl’s hand, watching Frozen when her heart just…gave out. 

She had gone to the funeral but shame and guilt burned bright inside till she felt like there was a beacon surrounding her, letting everyone at the funeral know it was her fault that Isabella had passed away. 

As the pieces clicked together in her mind she felt an inferno roar to life inside her. It burned away the sadness and despair she’d been wallowing in ever since Billy left only to leave behind rage and guilt. The emotions boiled in her stomach, bile climbing up her throat as she stumbled to the bathroom

Collapsing over the toilet, heaving and retching, she knew nothing was coming up but her body worked overtime to expunge the horror she felt in any way it could. Her body spasming as waves of emotions crashed through her system. 

Several minutes passed till she finally felt the nausea start to ebb. Slumping against the wall, she hung her head over the toilet as she took steadying breaths, making sure that her body wasn’t going to rebel again. 

When she lifted her head, she had made a decision. 

~

“Alrigh’, alrigh’ I’m coming. Quite your bloody knocking you crazy-”

Jean’s rant was cut short when he saw (Y/N) on the other side of the door decked out in black athletic gear, hair pulled back in a tight braid. Jean’s eyes widened as he made contact with her own eyes. A fire could get started with the steely glint that was reflected back at him. 

“I need you to train me." 

"T-train you?” Jean’s hands were instantly coated in sweat as he contemplated what she was talking about. 

“Yes. Like how you trained Billy and Mark. Train me to be a Sky Walker. I can do this." 

Jean rubbed a hand down his face, ”(Y/N)…it’s late. Maybe we should sleep on this-“

"NO.” That one word leapt from her throat in a growl, causing Jean to step back, half shutting the door. Slamming her hand against the door she switched tactics, “Please Jean. There’s this prick who’s dumping toxic waste into the ocean. So many people were sick and at my hospital because of him.” Swallowing thickly, her eyes grew unfocused, “They died…under my watch." 

Jean’s shoulders slumped at that admission. With Billy’s death overshadowing everything, he forgot that in her line of work she saw more sickness and death than even he had seen.

But this was the first time since the funeral that he had seen her up and moving. It was the first time that her eyes held any sort of emotion. He couldn’t bear to be the one that extinguished it. He couldn’t do that to her. Or to Mark. 

Heaving a sigh he flung his hands up, "Fine. We start in the morning,” Her eyes widened and a small smile crept across her face as she stepped forward into his apartment until he held a hand out to stop her, “Now let me go back to sleep so I don’t pass out on you mid training session and we both die." 

**_~Three Months After the Funeral~_ **

_Are you ready for it?_

The bass thumped through her headphones, as her fists made contact with the punching bag in front of her in time to the beat. Staying light on her toes, she bounded back and forth, jabbing, punching, upper cutting, swaying in and out as she danced around the bag. 

She had been here for hours. The 24-hour gym had cleared out earlier, now it was just her and other people who couldn’t sleep or worked weird hours.

As the last line of the song faded she put her hands on her hips, pacing over to her backpack. 

Rooting through it, she located her water bottle, taking long pulls from it as her heart beat slowed down. 

Boxing had been one of the only things that was able to take her mind off of, well, everything. 

That and running. Everyone and their mother had told her to try yoga after they’d heard what happened, telling her it would help to "quiet her mind” but the more time she spent sitting still, the more she could feel Billy’s hand slipping from hers as he walked out of her apartment for the last time. 

She gave it up when a panic attack had taken over her system in downward dog. 

Activities that let her be alone, that let her get her aggression out, were the most beneficial. 

Plus, it helped with the Sky Walker training she’d been receiving from Mark and Jean.

After she’d shown up at Jean’s door that night, she arrived on his doorstep bright and early the next morning, knowing that she’d have to knock extra loud to make sure Jean actually woke up. Which is why it shocked her that before she could even knock on the door, Jean had swung it open to reveal him and Mark standing in front of her, looking for all the world like two parents ready to scold their child for staying out past curfew. 

Smirking she shrugged, “Sorry I missed curfew.”

Mark’s mouth twitched and she knew that, with him at least, she was off the hook. 

They had sat her down, gone over basic safety information, how they practiced moves on the ground first so they could get comfortable executing them and then took them up into the air. 

Mark’s heart broke at how alert and interested she was. It was the first time in months he saw her engage with others and it killed him that this was what it was taking to bring her back from the brink. 

Ever since then, she had been training with them to prepare for this mission, to learn the necessary skills she’d need to break in, to keep herself alive. She had convinced Mark and Jean that the plan she had for Chase was a one-woman job. She told them that if she couldn’t pick up on everything in six months then she would let one of them help her on this mission. 

But she knew she wouldn’t need their help. When Mark and Jean taught her how to fight, how to dodge opponents, how to protect herself in a fight, her Nurse Brain kicked into high gear. 

When they’d break down certain tricks she was able to picture the exact muscles, ligaments and bones that would need to be strengthened, how they would need to move to be able to complete the move perfectly. 

She was even able to break down fight sequences just from observing her opponents moves. Looking at how certain muscles tensed, what foot they’d lead with, how their fist was turned, it all helped her get the upper hand in any fight. 

Knowing pressure points and which joints were the weakest were an added benefit during these training sessions. 

(After she almost dislocated Jean’s knee, he had limped away, bellowing about how she needed to seriously remember who the enemy was and it “bloody well isn’t me! I like the ocean! I’ve never even _been_ to Sea World, that’s how much I like the ocean!” 

All of it added up to her progressing in her training more rapidly than Mark or Jean felt comfortable with.

They couldn’t help being impressed though. She was mastering moves that had taken them years to nail down. But she took to it with a single-minded determinism that worried them, especially Jean. 

Training was all (Y/N) cared or wanted to talk about. Mark told him that she’d started working out at all hours. Lifting, running and boxing being the newest activity she had added to her repertoire and while he felt it was a smart move, he couldn’t help but be worried. Every time she was training, he’d seen a fatalistic look in her eyes. It was a look he was all too familiar with, it was a common look in Sky Walkers. But those individuals were always the highest risk cases.

Those were the Sky Walkers who didn’t value their own safety. They kept pushing and pushing until mortality pushed back and said, _You want to keep going? Fine. You pushed too far and now I’m going to punish you._

The worst part was, in his experience, there was no use trying to tell those individuals to slow down. They inevitably sped up to spite the person who told them to slow down. Jean didn’t want Mark to lose his sister too. 

After a particularly intense training session, he hesitantly brought it up to Mark who only snorted, 

“I already lost her.”

“What do you mean?”

Mark shot him an incredulous stare, “You’re kidding right? You’ve seen how much she’s changed since Billy left. That’s not my sister. I still hope like hell (Y/N)’s underneath this new exterior but…I don’t know who this new woman is. And frankly, I don’t want to know who she is.”

She hadn’t told Mark but she’d heard him say that. She knew she wasn’t the same woman but this was the one thing in her life that had made her feel alive since the funeral. She didn’t want to give it up. 

_They’re just going to have to get used to it._ She thought as she unwrapped the bright pink wraps from her hands. Rooting through her backpack, she made sure she had everything. Slinging her bag over her shoulders, she queued up her running playlist. 

Striding toward the front door she gave the obligatory head nod to all the members still in the facility. 

Shoving the door open, the wind that had buffeted the building all night slapped her in the face. Eyes tearing up, she adjusted the straps of her backpack, hit play and started to jog back to her apartment. 

_Demons!_

_Come on!_

_You’ve got a vision,_

_You’re on a mission!_

~~~

He almost missed her. 

The all black clothing she had taken to wearing, combined with how the last vestiges of red in the sky were quickly being overrun by the inky black of the night sky made him worried she’d left without him realizing. 

Seeing the door open, light spilling out and illuminating her form, he breathed a sigh of relief. Watching her jog off into the night, he leapt up from his crouched position on the building next door to the gym. 

Giving (Y/N) a head start, he waited a few beats before taking off after her. Keeping her in his sight but sticking close to the shadows. Every time he saw a form approaching her, he put on a fresh burst of speed; anxiety spiking through his blood at the prospect of her getting in harm’s way helping him to power through. After they passed without incident, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

He had done this for a few nights now. 

One had told him they wouldn’t head out to HQ for a while, something about needing to wrap things up but he didn’t question it. It gave him time to check on her. 

Recently, he was getting nervous that she had started to…he hated sounding like a hippie but…she had started to _sense_ his presence.

Like their souls burned too brightly together so the universe made it so they would never be lost in the dark as long as they were near each other’s light. 

A few weeks ago, he had been following her to her apartment after she left Mark and Jean’s. He had been wearing all black, a few feet away, on the roof of a building far above her. 

She had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, tilted her head up and stared right where Billy had been standing. He’d dropped like a rock to the concrete floor of the roof, trying to stifle his breathing, which after almost passing out, realized would be insane if she could hear that. 

There had been several other times where there was no possible way (Y/N) should have been able to tell where he was and yet…

She’d look up, right in the direction of where he was and every time, he sent out a plea, _See me. Please. Know that I’m here. That I love you. That I never wanted to leave you. Just, please._

_Please don’t think I broke my promise._

**_~Seven Months After the Funeral~_ **

She thought the knuckles on her hand were going to pop out of her skin.

Clenching the steering wheel, she chastised herself for making this process so exceedingly difficult. 

_Just let go of the wheel._ She scolded herself, _Release your finger. Just the pinky finger. It won’t be too hard. C'mon, don’t be a-_

She cut that thought off quickly. 

Too many memories weighed down four little words and if she wasn’t careful, they would drag her into the inky blackness of depression. She couldn’t risk it. Not with a mission coming up. 

The breath leaving her mouth shuddered out of her like the wind through an old house. Her chest felt too tight, like each breath made her lungs smaller, not bigger.

_This isn’t how he’d want to see you._

Like a flash of lightning, the thought illuminated everything and for a second, the world was crystal clear. Her fingers slipped from the wheel only to land dully in her lap, where they curled in on themselves so they looked like dead bugs. 

Snorting, she figured it would be appropriate they looked like dead bugs considering she was in a cemetery. 

Sun shining down, the sky a cloudless blue, made it impossible to not think of his eyes and how they had looked at her in the full light of day. That one day they’d had together.

Those perfect 24 hours. 

Funny how time constricts and bends so some events pass in the blink of an eye while others pass by like a train at a train crossing when you’re running late to work. 

Shaking her head, she bowed her head and closed her eyes. The darkness was a welcome reprieve. But not always.

Sleep had become the bogey man at the end of her bed. Sleeping wasn’t a relaxing activity, it was prey she had to stalk and take down before it could get her. It wasn’t that there were so many nightmares plaguing her, it was just one nightmare.

It was horrible enough that most nights, she didn’t even fully fall asleep, it was more like a deep meditative state. The thought that that one nightmare could overwhelm her was enough to make her not want to sleep ever again. The first time the nightmare came to her was a week after his funeral:

_Fog would be swirling around her, swallowing up everything in her path. Taking hesitant steps forward, Billy’s form would become clearer as she moved forward. Her heart beat speeding up as she saw Billy peering over the edge of the building._

_Suddenly, realization would crash into her like a train. This wasn’t just any building. This was the building that Billy had last been seen running across. Knowing that there was nothing on the other side, she would rush forward to warn him, to pull him back, to crush his body to hers and never let him go._

_She needed to warn him, to save him. But no matter how fast she pumped her legs, Billy stayed the same distance away. His legs would tense and that’s when she’d start screaming. Her vocal cords stretched to their breaking point as she rushed towards him. But before she could reach him, he’d leap into the air, disappear into the fog and…_

That’s when she’d wake up. Face wet with tears, the last of her screams dying in her throat. 

She always screamed the same thing. 

_Billy! Stay!_

The first few times she hadn’t realized she was actually screaming those words aloud until a neighbor of hers knocked on her door, asking her if she was okay.

She never knew how to answer that question.

It was such an odd one. Mark and Jean asked her that all the time. Whenever they did, she’d grit her teeth and spit out that she was fine because how else was she supposed to answer that question? 

"Actually Mark, Jean, I’m so glad you asked because I’m not okay and I probably never will be again because the only man I ever loved and trusted, up and broke said trust! Oh, and did I also mention he’s dead?”

That’s how she wanted to answer their asinine question but by the time she felt like she could get those words out, most people had moved on from Billy. Because people always do.

But not her. 

Though, it hadn’t taken long for her to want to sleep with someone else. She figured it would help her heal. 

At the very least provide a necessary distraction.

It was always the same. 

Normally, they’d lock eyes across the bar. Raising her glass of scotch she got every time she went to the same bar with the sticky floors, burnt out bulbs and rickety chairs, she’d lift it towards him in a kind of salute. When he’d smirk back and do the same, she’d quirk an eyebrow only to throw back the drink in one go. The thud of glass on wood signaling to the bartender to pour her another. 

Nine times out of ten, their eyes would immediately become hooded with lust (every now and again, one would take a drink at the same time and choke on his own drink at the action.) A smirk would play across his lips as he’d bring his own glass to his lips and drain it in one go.

 _Men. God forbid a woman out do them in anything._ She always thought ruefully as she’d watch her next victim unfold themselves from the bar stool they were seated on to slip into the empty seat next to her. 

There were rules. She refused to sleep with blondes. She had one time. She had moaned out Billy’s name and immediately started crying. When the man with her had tried to comfort her she had pushed him away, screaming at him to get out of her apartment.

The other rule was, no sleepovers. Having men sleep over usually meant they overstayed their welcome and she didn’t want them getting comfortable anymore than she wanted to spend the night in a bed that wasn’t hers. 

Once the rules had been established, it was the same shit with a slightly different dude. They’d engage in flirty banter, a well-timed arm touch, a glance up at him through her lashes, one more drink and then they’d be in the back of a Lyft, hands everywhere, and then a few hours later she’d be back in a Lyft (one time, the same Lyft driver who had dropped them off had picked her up, alone, offering a hive five as she got out of the car) to go back to her apartment.

Alone. 

Most nights she wondered why she did it. Why she was constantly hunting for that same jolt of electricity that she’d had with Billy. Every time her encounters ended, she always wondered what the point of doing this was. Why did she bother when every man she interacted with came up hilariously short? 

She had tried to make it work, to forget him, but the entire time some man would be kissing her, caressing her, touching her, there was always a part of her that was thinking of another man’s tattooed, calloused hands on her body. 

A rap on the window caused her to jump, clenching her hands back into fists as Mark waved, sheepishly, at her from the other side of the glass. The flowers grasped in his fist swayed in the breeze. 

Stepping out of her car, Mark moved to hug her. Holding out her hand to stop him she growled, “I’m already on edge. Don’t make it worse.” Striding around him and towards the plot of land where the box that Billy was supposed to be in laid dormant under the soil.

A place holder.

Nothing more. 

Mark’s shoulders sank as he watched her go. Physical contact had been difficult for her since Billy had gone. It was small, but he noticed. Every time he pulled her into a hug when she showed up at training, she’d stiffen, then it turned into her barely reciprocating until she refused them altogether. It made his heart ache, she used to hug everyone no matter if they had known each forever or four minutes. 

But then again, she’d just become more withdrawn in general. It broke his heart to see it. Watching her light fade and dim, it was like a star becoming a black hole. 

Crunching through the sun dried grass toward the plot, she kept her head down, barreling towards her destination. Figuring that if she walked faster, she could outpace her thoughts before they could catch up with her and the realization of where she was and where she was headed could crush her. 

This was the first time they were visiting Billy’s grave since she’d started training to become a Sky Walker. Mark and Jean had tried to get her to go sooner but it hadn’t been until Mary asked (Y/N) if she would meet her there did she finally acquiesce. 

The only memory she had of Mary was after the funeral. Watching Mary and her mother walk arm in arm back to their car, their shared grief following them like a cloud. 

At that moment, (Y/N) had envied them. They had each other. Their shared love for Billy would be a balm, it would help them try to heal. She only had herself and her memories. Neither of which were particularly warm or comforting at the moment.

“Whoa, easy.” Two hands wrapped around her biceps, bringing her to an abrupt stop. 

Looking up, she was met with the same sky blue eyes that Billy had, framed by lashes that were almost as long as Billy’s. Blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, Mary smiled ruefully at her, “Just trying to get this over with huh?" 

Forcing herself to swallow over the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat, she nodded wordlessly. Mary’s eyes took in her form, noting how her clothes seemed to hang on her, the dull, flinty look her eyes had. Mutely, she linked her arm through (Y/N)’s, pulling her into her side. 

Taking a deep breath, they both turned to look at the headstone in front of them. Seeing his name carved into stone caused her heart to speed up. Scolding herself for being so silly for getting twitter-patted over his name. What was she, fourteen? 

But she couldn’t help it. 

"It’s weird." 

Humming in acknowledgment, (Y/N) didn’t know if Mary meant them being here together, the fact that her brother was dead or just the world in general. 

"It’s weird that that little line,” Mary gestured toward the line in between the numbers that marked when he had been born and when he died, “is supposed to represent his whole life. Everything he said and did. Everyone he loved.”

The emotional toll of hearing those words uttered by his sister caused all of the air in (Y/N)’s lungs to leave, her heart to splinter into even tinier parts. Wobbling, she grasped Mary’s arm tightly as Mary wound another arm around (Y/N)’s waist to keep her upright. 

“(Y/N!) Easy, you okay?“ 

The weight of Mark’s hand on her shoulder helped ground her in reality. Her twisted reality where it wasn’t Billy’s hand on her shoulder. And it never would be again.

Straightening up, she tugged on the end of her coat, shaking her head, "Yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Just, it’s a lot." 

Mark nodded, eyes taking in his sisters appearance, trying not to seem too shocked that this was the most she had revealed her feelings to him, to anyone, in the past few weeks. 

Locking eyes with Mary’s blue ones over top of (Y/N)’s head, he mouthed a quick thank you in which she inclined her head to show she understood. 

Mark had been in contact with Mary constantly. First it was getting names of counselors and support groups to help his sister heal, then it turned into them talking and developing a…something. They had developed a relationship that neither were sure what to call but seeing her here caused his heart to flutter. 

Feeling (Y/N)’s shoulders rise and fall, he lifted his arm so she could step out from underneath them, "I’ll see you guys later." 

Opening his mouth, Mark tried to protest but when he felt Mary’s hand land on his bicep, he closed it. (Y/N)’s all black form grew to be a small speck on the blue horizon. 

He was surprised the whole ground didn’t open up to swallow her at that moment. She looked like a specter of death. But he supposed what she really was was worse. She was a casualty of death, and there was no hope for that. 

**_~Nine Months After the Funeral~_ **

A few months of intense training later, after she had executed one of the most difficult tricks Jean and Mark had designed, Jean finally told her she was ready to go after Chase. 

"Fucking finally.” she groaned, wiping the sweat from her face with the bottom of her shirt, “I’m going to rinse off and change, then meet me at my apartment!” she yelled over her shoulder as she raced to the locker room. 

Jean nodded and several minutes later, hair still damp, raised a fist to knock on her front door. Before he could knock, the door swung open to reveal her laptop open and her kitchen table covered with charts, maps and blueprints of Chase’s compound. 

“What took you so long?” 

Jean whistled as he took it all in, “When did you do this?" 

"When I first read that news article about Chase. So..here’s what I’m thinking.” Laying out her plan, Jean couldn’t help feeling impressed. It was foolproof. He was also relieved that all she wanted was to bring Chase to justice, share his personal files with the government and the entire Internet so she could expose him then get the hell out of there.

As she laid out the plan she was careful not to mention how much Chase needed to pay for all the lives he took with his negligence and selfishness. She kept emotion out of her tone, just the facts, as she walked Jean through her plan to bring Chase to justice. 

But she knew justice wouldn’t be enough. 

Justice was never enough for people like that. Because the rules of justice were skewed so men like that always got off scot free. In her heart of hearts, she knew it didn’t matter if she leaked every atrocious thing he’d ever done. He’d be back out in the public eye in a few years and no one would bat an eyelash because he had money, power and privilege. The three most essential ingredients to make any good villain. 

She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if this man was able to walk away. If she didn’t do right by Isabella, she didn’t know how she’d be able to continue living with herself. 

“From there, I’ll get the files, download them to the flash drive, hack into the mainframe, deposit them there and then get the hell out. Minimal damage, minimal casualties, maximum impact." 

"That’s how most people describe having sex with me." 

"I don’t have time to unpack how distressing all of that is right now but, what do you think? Is it doable? And will you and Mark help me?" 

Jean’s eyes scanned the blueprints before him. He saw how her fingers were beating an erratic beat on her thighs, how her feet constantly shifted as if she wanted to take off in a million directions at once. This was the most animated he’d seen her in weeks. He knew this may be their only chance to really get her settled, let her burn off some steam with a mission and then they could get her back to her old self. 

Heaving a giant sigh, he hung his head down, "Fucking fine. We’ll do it. BUT,” his head snapped up and almost felt bad when he saw the smile that had slipped across her face fade. Almost. “You listen to us. Mark and I have final say in all of this. Got it? We’ve done this before and while you’ll be the one in the field, we have markedly more experience so let us do what we do best. Got it?" 

He stuck out his hand for her to shake. Her (Y/E/C) eyes flitted over his features, seeing if he’d break or if he was just pulling her leg. When she saw nothing but sincerity looking back at her, she slipped her hand into his. "Deal." 

Jean almost started crying when a sparkle caught his eye, her thumb had a final bit of pink sparkly nail polish on it, making him wonder if he had made a terrible mistake. 

**_~A Week Later~_ **

"I’m in." 

Part of her always cringed whenever she said those two words. She couldn’t help but think of a shaggy haired, pre-pubescent 12-year old, huddled over their laptop, fingers clacking frantically, the glow of their computer screen the only thing illuminating the Mountain Dew bottles surrounding them.

But, it just came with the job she supposed. 

Creeping along the hall, she checked over her shoulder. Feeling the familiar flutter of adrenaline spike in her stomach, she reached for the package that was hidden in her pocket. As her fingers brushed over its cylindrical shape she felt her shoulders relax. Then, she moved her hand down further to make sure the knife she’d strapped to her thigh was still firmly in place, that really helped her to relax. 

She quickly sent up a thank you to Cassandra, wherever she was, for leaving her knife sharpening kit at Mark’s place. The linoleum underneath her feet reflected the dim red light that ran along the length of the hallway. 

"In 20 feet you’re going to reach the checkpoint. Remember, there’s a big ass-”

“Grid of invisible wires, yeah yeah. I know, Jean. We went over this a million times." 

"Well, with how little you pay attention during those meetings I’m surprised you can even remember the address." 

"How about you shut the fuck up and let me do my damn job?” she snarled into her comms. 

Blocks away, Jean ripped his headset off to shake his head at Mark who just sighed, eyes never leaving the computer screen where his sisters grainy form was seen lurking towards the wire netting, “I know, dude. I know.”

“Fucking Billy. If only he hadn’t-”

“Jean. Please. We all still wish he was here. Don’t make it harder.”

Huffing out a breath, Jean turned back to the keyboard, shoving his headphones back into place as he deactivated the alarms to the rooms (Y/N) needed to get in to. 

Throwing a strand of her hair into the hallway, she nodded when it settled to the floor without getting zapped. 

“You really don’t trust me, do you (Y/N)?

"I trust you, I just don’t trust the security protocols in this place. A fortress like this has to have backups of the backups." 

"Bitch! That’s why we’re here!" 

Snorting at how high Jean’s tone had gotten, she continued prowling toward the door that led into Chase’s inner sanctum. He didn’t let anyone but a select few into the room that was waiting for her at the end of the hallway. It was where he kept all of his documents, where he entertained foreign emissaries and got them to sign off on him dumping his toxic waste in the water because who cared about people’s health when he could make a few more dollars? 

Shaking her head to straighten her brain out, she took a deep breath as she tread closer to the intimidating mahogany door that loomed before her. 

Glancing down, she saw the pad to the left of the door, they needed a retinal scan to get in. She waited as from miles away, Mark’s hands were flying over the keyboard as he worked his magic. Using a close up image of Chase’s eye they had captured a few weeks ago, he embedded it into the code for the lock. When it lit up green she smirked, "Thanks, big brother." 

"Don’t thank me yet. Expose that fucking loser and come home safely. Then we can talk." 

Nudging the door open, she made a beeline for the imposing white desk in front of the picture window looking out over, ironically, the ocean. Rolling her eyes, she briskly walked over to his computer. Fingers gliding over the keys, fishing around in the pocket of her black athletic leggings, she cursed, "Why the FUCK do women’s pockets always have to be so small.”

“It’s just another way for the patriarchy to keep you down. Hard on, sister.”

Pausing in her actions, she raised her eyes up, fixing on a distant point as she opened and closed her mouth, ready to correct Jean when Mark’s voice rang through her comms, “He’s got the right spirit. Just let him have this." 

Shrugging, she bent down to the task at hand, inserting the USB, opening up files and dumping them onto the Internet and sending them to the entire UN Embassy, every government official, Greenpeace and the whole world to condemn this monster. 

As she finished uploading the last of Chase’s files to the EPA’s mainframe, she heard footsteps approaching. 

And right on time. 

"Uhh, (Y/N)? Don’t mean to alarm you but Chase himself and four armed guards are barreling down on you. Get out the window NOW and meet at the rendezvous point." 

Hearing how Mark’s voice shook on the last word caused her to pause for a fraction of a second, wondering if she was making the right choice. Like a flash, she shook herself from her stupor and straightened up. Pulling the USB out of the computer she dropped it into her pocket, reaching a finger up to disconnect her comms, "I know. I planned for it. Sorry boys. I’ll see you on the other side” She clicked her comms off just as she heard Jean and Mark start to protest. 

Closing her eyes, she rolled her shoulders. Reaching back into her pocket she took out the extra package she’d been carrying and set it on the desk.

Carefully, she extracted the vile and needle that was inside. 

When the door burst open, all Chase saw was a woman, silhouetted by moonlight, holding a needle up to the light, tapping it a few times. 

“Nice of you to join me, Chase. Won’t you sit down?” she murmured.

“Who the fuck are you, you crazy bitch? I have the entire government on my ass, PETA has threatened with more than one lawsuit and the FBI, EPA and other three letter entities aren’t far behind to pick me up and haul me off for the rest of my life. So,” he stepped to the edge of the desk, slamming his palms down, “I’ll ask one more time. Who.The. FUCK. Are. You?”

Watching the last air bubble pop, she smiled. She had never felt so calm in her life and when her eyes dragged from the needle to meet Chase’s, he was surprised to see a serene looking woman staring back at him. 

“You killed people. So now I’m going to kill you." 

And she lunged forward.

Her hand came down holding the needle, aiming for the largest artery in his neck. Eyes widening, he stumbled back, arms pinwheeling. Knocking the needle from her hand, she watched it twist through the air, the moon reflecting off the glass and then she lost it as it hit the plush carpet without a sound. 

She didn’t have too much time to think about it because all of a sudden the four men that had come in with Chase were on her. 

Leaping onto the desk, she wrapped her thighs around the neck of the man closest to her. Thanking Mark for bullying her into never skipping leg day, she squeezed her legs around his neck as he spun wildly, trying to dislodge her. Hands scrambling at her thighs, he dropped to his knees where she unwound her legs from his shoulders, dropping to the ground and turning in one swift motion, she kneed him in the face, turning to the next man as the one on the floor tried in vain to stop the fountain of blood flowing from his nose. 

Another one was right on her as she aimed a punch right to his midsection, hearing an “OOF” leave his mouth, she kicked his legs out from underneath him. As he landed, she raced in between his legs, located his kneecap and with a twist of her wrist, dislocated it with a sharp POP. 

With a howl, he rolled around on the ground as the one with the bloody nose limped over to help. Breathing heavily she turned, only to be faced with the other two bearing down on her. 

_Jesus,_ she thought, Star Wars _always led me to believe the bad guys would come at me one at a time._ _Not all at once._

It was the last thought she remembered having before she could only focus on trying to make it out alive. 

One of the men grabbed her arm, she grabbed his wrist, finding a pressure point and bore down until his fingers loosened around her wrist. Not letting up, she snapped his wrist and kicked him in the groin. 

As he slumped to the ground, the other one grabbed her ankle, yanking her leg out from underneath her causing her to face plant into the carpet. Her hands scrabbled for anything to hold onto as he dragged her body towards him. Twisting, she reached for her knife. As he reached a hand down toward her throat, she brought it up in one quick motion. 

She rolled away as the man screamed in agony as he searched for his missing finger. Scrambling to her feet, she felt something collide with the back of her head. Her vision began to swim as the carpet came up to meet her face once again. She’d forgotten about the first guard who had been attending to the second man she’d taken down. Now, he stood over her, teeth bared, blood still flowing from his nose, gun cocked and aimed right in between her eyes. 

"Wait!" 

Chase’s form became clearer as he knelt down beside her, "You don’t deserve to die by a bullet do you?” He cooed as he stroked a finger down her cheek. Turning her head, she tried to snap at his finger but the quick movement caused her to retch. 

Laughing softly, she heard the tap of fingernails hitting a glass vile, “You deserve to die by your own little concoction. It’s much more poetic, don’t you think?" 

He leaned over her, bringing his mouth to her ear as he caressed her arm, rubbing two fingers over the crook of her elbow, "Like Romeo and Juliet but, darling Juliet” she hissed as he stabbed the needle into her arm, “This time, Romeo will live. And he’ll win.” He pressed the release and she felt a tear leak from her eye when suddenly, the world exploded. 

Glass fell over her form like stars falling from the sky as the bright lights of a stealth helicopter illuminated the room. The man with the bloody nose whipped his gun toward the window, firing rapidly but quickly crumpled as someone strode right up to him, and shot him point blank. 

Chase scrambled up, hands out in front of him, “What the fuck is this? Are you CIA? FBI? Listen, I have more money than God, I can set you up for the rest of your life. You’ll never have to worry-”

A gunshot was the only answer Chase got. 

“More than one person can have more money than God, ass-wipe.” The figure kicked Chase’s body as he walked past him, his form swimming before (Y/N) as the poison leaked into her blood stream, “And besides,” he knelt down by her form, fingers searching for a pulse, “I use reusable straws because baby turtles are cute as fuck.”

Her head lolled to the side as she used the last bits of her strength to see who her savior was. A man with a rugged face stared back as he moved to crouch behind her, cradling her head in his hands as he yelled to someone behind him to hurry the fuck up. 

A second face looked down at her as she felt her eyelids begin to close, the hushed sounds of the man holding her head offering soothing platitudes as she made peace with the fact that she was about to die. 

As the second person rifled through the medical bag they had been carrying, hurriedly pulling out instruments, the last thing she heard was the man whispering into her ear, “Come on darling. Hold on for me. Hold on for him." 

**_~Three Days Later~_ **

_Bright._

That was her first thought as her eyelids fluttered open and immediately closed upon being assaulted by blinding white light. 

For a wild second she thought she had gone to heaven. 

"I know what you’re thinking. _Is this heaven?_ No. It’s not. Because if this were heaven I’d be smoking a fat blunt, drinking the finest gin while lying on a nude beach where no living person could bother me. People like you." 

The squeal of chair legs being dragged over the floor caused her to flinch. The voice that spoke was dry, making her wonder if this man ever took anything seriously. And also if he could read minds. 

"Pretty good stunts you pulled out there. You learn that shit from watching _Black Widow_ too many times?" 

Silence. She tried to keep her breath steady so maybe he would think she was still asleep. 

"Sweetheart, I just saw your eyelids crack open a second ago. There’s no way in hell you dropped back off to sleep that quickly." 

"Shouldn’t I be dead?” It felt like her vocal cords were two pieces of sandpaper rubbing together. The sound that was expunged from her throat was a dry husk. 

“Should be but, like Chase, I have more money than God and a crack team of experts. One of whom happens to know exactly what was in that vial and the antidote for it. You’ve been stable and asleep for three days now." 

He saw her eyebrows twitch, which he figured was the most reaction he would get out of her. 

Keeping her eyes closed made it easier to digest the information he was throwing at her and to keep her poker face in tact. The voice sounded familiar to her, but she couldn’t place where or when, she’d heard it before.

"Is he-?" 

"Dead? Yeah. A half dose of poison most people can come back from, but a bullet right through the skull? Much like Humpty Dumpty, we can’t exactly put that back together again." 

She felt her lips twitch and scolded herself for letting any emotion show through. 

"He deserved it.”

“I know. And you deserve to use your skills in a better way.” Her body stilled, her breath stopped for a beat and when it resumed, the monologue continued, “I have…fuck I hate sounding like Samuel L. Jackson but I have a team. And we could use someone like you." 

Another scraping sound, the soft rustle of fabric moving as the voice sounded like it was coming over her, "Think about it. And I’ll contact you. Don’t worry. I always keep my promises." 

Her hands clenched, the veins popping out as those five words washed over her like a cold shower.

The clenched hands were all the reaction he needed. 

Hearing his footsteps get softer she reached a hand down and felt a piece of cardstock brush against her finger tips. When the door closed, she cracked open an eyelid to look down at it, but it was blank. 

~~~

Closing the door, One leaned up against the hallway, letting his head knock against the wall of the hospital. 

Four had warned him. 

But this made things incredibly interesting. 

Or difficult. It all depended on how he wanted to view the situation. 

And what she wanted. 

After the funeral, One’d kept a close eye on Four. He knew what kind of pull love could have over a man. And Four was young. The youngest on the team in age, sure, but he let his feelings get the better of him a lot of the time which made him seem even younger. 

Which could be dangerous. And they were already in way too much danger as it was on a daily basis so he needed to nip it in the bud. 

Closing his eyes, he thought about the first time he caught Four. 

**_~Two Months Ago~_ **

_It had been quiet._

_The wind whistled through the various holes that littered the planes, causing sand to get whipped up along with it, tornadoes forming and quickly collapsing._

_One had been awake. He rarely slept but he had been in the Case Room, going over some files. Trying to decide what their next mission needed to be when he heard a noise._

_Keeping his body still, he strained his ears to see if he would hear it again. When he heard the floor creak, he crept to the door, peering out to see who or what it could possibly be._

_Seeing the familiar shape of Four’s hoodie, he rolled his eyes. When he saw him creep into the control room, he became suspicious. He knew how tempting the draw was to check on the ones you cared about. But with how emotionally fragile Four had been since he’d joined, he didn’t think this was the best idea, but he needed to confirm that’s what he was doing before he blew up on the kid._

_Pushing the door open, he walked down the hallway, being careful to tread lightly so as not to alert Four to his presence till he absolutely needed to._

_Using his years of training, he placed his body precisely so he could look into the room but Four wouldn’t be able to see him should he look around. Which, he didn’t think would be an issue. Four was engrossed by the screen in front of him, One didn’t think a nuclear explosion would cause him to look up._

_Taking his chances, he slunk into the room. Four had footage of an apartment pulled up on the screens. Three people, two guys, one girl, standing around a table. Four had headphones on so One couldn’t hear the audio but it looked like the individuals on screen were in the middle of an intense argument._

_Nibbling his thumbnail, Four’s eyes were laser focused on the woman as she gesticulated wildly. Blueprints, computer screens and maps littered every available surface of the apartment and One recognized the planning stages of a mission. He got a little closer and recognized the girl on screen as the same one who had been at Four’s funeral._

_Four had told him his background on the trip over to HQ. One figured the other two were the ones that were left over from his original Sky Walker crew._

_(He’d roasted Four about that dumbass name for weeks afterward.)_

_Shaking his head, One heaved a sigh and reached forward to snatch the headphones off Four’s head._

_"HEY! Who the bloody hell-” Four’s frame twisted up and out of the chair only to come to an immediate stop when he saw who had his headphones dangling from their fingertips._

_“Didn’t know The Bachelorette had a new season running! Are they in the hometown segment?”_

_Four blinked at him, “It’s really distressing you know that much about The Bachelorette."_

_"What’s really distressing is the fact that you’re checking up on her. What the fuck do you think you’re doing Four?"_

_"Look, I’m sorry but-”_

_“No. There are no buts here. Even if her butt is really nice, you gotta put it behind you dude. Especially her.”_

_“I know that, One but-”_

_One had started pacing back and forth as he warmed to the topic before him, “Do you know how much money is on the line here? How much is at stake? Our lives, our very existence, this could all blow up at any point and we could die. For real. Or, even worse, the government comes in, blows up our spot and we get sentenced to death. Or worse, jail. And you yourself have such fond feelings of, what did you call them? The pigs?” One shot Four a disgruntled look at that statement, noting how Four’s hands were clenching and unclenching in an attempt to stay cool._

_“Look, One, I just-”_

_Rounding on him, pointing a finger in his face One roared, “No, Four, you just. You clearly don’t want to be part of this team. Clearly I made a mistake in asking you to be part of this if you can’t get over the little school girl crush you have on this girl you slept with once and she sucked your dick so well that you mistook it for love-”_

_His air supply was cut off as Four slammed One up against the wall. The tattoos decorating his hand popped against his skin as he gripped One’s windpipe in a steel trap. For the first time since bringing Four onto the team, One was truly afraid of him and understood why he was so good at what he did._

_The look in Four’s eyes cowed One immediately as Four growled out the next few sentences, “You listen up right here, right now you fucking prick,” Slamming his head back into the wall One saw stars, “Her name is (Y/N) and she is worth more than any person on this damn planet. She’s the best person I’ve ever been with and I’m damn lucky she even deigned to give me the time of day. She’s the reason I even joined this bloody insane operation, so show some fucking respect or I’ll have no problem slitting your throat and moving on with my life."_

_One’s vision was getting black around the edges as he frantically nodded his head at Four’s words. Four let him go where he collapsed to the floor on hands and knees, coughing as Four paced around the room, scrubbing at the shaved sides of his head with his fists._

_After a few seconds of coughing, One rubbed at his throat as he pushed himself up, "You’re fucking crazy, dude. Really glad I recruited you. That’s the kind of attitude we need out in the field."_

_Four shook his head as he let out a humorless laugh as One brushed his hands off, "You don’t understand One. You never will."_

_"Cut the emo bullshit. We’re not in Twilight. We’re adults, just tell me what-” He stopped as Four swiftly turned to face him, eyes pleading,_

_“She became a Sky Walker, One. She’s doing what I used to do because she doesn’t think her life has any meaning and that’s bullshit. She’s my everything, okay? She’s the reason I get up in the morning. She’s the reason I do this damn job. She’s the reason I keep myself alive out there. She’s my guiding light. She’s the sunshine on a cloudy day and-and” he waved his hands around uselessly as he tried desperately to pull another cliche from thin air, “I don’t know, man. She’s every other cliche you know about how someone makes your world better and she’s putting herself at risk because of me"_

_One stood stock still as Four took another deep breath in, the fire in his eyes going from an inferno to embers as he stared at the screen where it showed her bending over the blueprints, tracing a line with her finger, "She’s the love of my life and-” taking a shuddery breath in One felt his own eyes start to get misty, “Her light is the one thing that keeps me going in this miserable world. And if she’s gone, I don’t know if I’ll make it.” A tear made its way down One’s cheek as Four admitted this last part on a whisper._

_One wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear that last part but there was stillness as the room held its breath as it waited for what One would have to say,_

_“Alright. What do you need from me?"_

_Four’s eyes snapped to One’s. Stepping closer to One, his eyes roved over his face, trying to tell if he meant it, "You’re not messing with me are you?"_

_"Not in this regard. Probably over something else I will but, what would make you feel better?”_

_Four took a second to contemplate it, “If she does seem like she’s in trouble with this mission, we rescue her.” His eyes widened as he took another step closer to One, “AND, you offer her a spot on the team.”_

_“Four-”_

_“One it’s this or you lose me for good if she-she- ” Four’s voice cracked as he turned his head away. Not even able to finish that horrible thought._

_One’s heart squeezed in his chest. Christ, he thought, I’m more invested in their relationship than any bystander should be._

_Groaning, One rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Fucking fine. I’m so going to regret this but…fuck it. If it seems like things are going sideways, we’ll step in. I’ll offer her a place on the team.” Four started to smile but One stepped forward, pointing a finger in his face, “You have to meet with her before she makes her final decision though. I can offer it to her but she gets the final call if she wants to do this thing with us. With you. Got it?”_

_Nodding frantically, Four closed the gap between the two of them and wrapped One in a hug, “Oh, so we talk about our feelings for two minutes and all of a sudden we’re into hugs? Weird.”_

_Four let him go and with one last look at the screens, bade One goodnight._

_Watching him leave, One turned to the screens, watching her analyze the blueprints, writing notes on them occasionally. Leaning on the back of the rolling chair One sighed, “Oh (Y/N), you have no idea what you’ve done.”_

~~~

Reaching into his pocket, One slide his phone out, shooting a quick text to Four, 

**She’s awake. And alive. Now we wait.**

Heaving a sigh, he glanced down the hallway to see Seven approaching. Making eye contact with One, he raised his arms up as if to say, _Well? What’s happening?_

“Fuck if I know. She’s insane.” At Seven’s bug eyed look he quickly backpedaled, “In a good way. I don’t think she’s insane in, like, a psychological way. Just grieving.”

“Oh good because grief is such a good emotion to grapple with in this line of work. Oh, and by the way did we mention that the man she’s grieving is actually alive and well?" 

"You know, sarcasm is really ugly on you. Luckily, I’m not ugly so I can wear sarcasm well." 

Snorting, Seven slumped against the wall next to One, letting his own head thud softly against the wall. Crossing his arms they both stared ahead at an unknowable future.

Seven broke the silence, "What really happens now, One. I mean, I know she’s good, we all saw her in action. Taking out all four of those guards? Her entire plan was foolproof. It was impressive, no doubt but this is a tricky situation, one that none of us has ever had to deal with before." 

"I know, I know.” One let those four words out on a single huff of breath. Groaning he squeezed his eyes closed, “Why did I have to pick the one man on this earth who’s desperately in love with a girl who so happened to be desperately in love with him and then they both went full Batman when they lost each other?”

“Because you see yourself in Four. That’s why.”

One’s eyes slid over to Seven, “That doesn’t leave this hallway.”

Nodding once to show he understood, Seven pressed himself up. Twisting his body so he was facing One, his posture the only remnant to remind everyone he was once the perfect soldier, “But seriously One, what now. What can I do?”

Pressing his hands against the wall, One heaved himself up with a grunt, “Solve this for me?” The single eyebrow raise was the only answer he got, “Alright, alright. Come on. We need to go back and debrief everyone on this crazy shit. Don’t know how I’m going to use small enough words to explain this to Three." 

"You’re on your own for that one dude.” Seven laughed as they ambled down the hall, laughter dying on his lips his face fell into a serious mask, “How do you think Four’s going to handle it?" 

"If I knew I wouldn’t be having this charming heart-to-heart with you." 

"Seriously man, you’re not even a little bit worried?”

“I’m freaking out dude!” Seven was brought up short as One rounded on him, gesticulating wildly, “This is no man’s land! Even more so than this original idea! Four’s so deep in his feelings with this girl and she’s clearly heartbroken about him being gone and is on a one-woman train toward self-destruction that she’s determined to meet him in death and” One’s eyes widened comically, “Ooooh my god I’ve Romeo and Juliet-ed them. Holy shit, I’m the Nurse. I’m too beautiful to be The Nurse!" 

Gently prying One’s hands from his collar, Seven looked him dead in the eye, "You have got to get a grip. You’re spiraling and it’s making your eyes go in two different directions.”

Crushing his eyes closed, One took a deep breath in, “You’re right. You’re right. I need to get it together. We can handle this.” Stepping back One hopped up and down on the balls of his feet, punching the air, “I need you to slap me." 

The crack of Seven’s palm making contact with his cheek sent One staggering back several steps. 

"OW! What the fuck? No hesitation? No asking if I was sure?”

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the day you broke into my apartment.” Seven shrugged as One glared at him, cupping his pink cheek.

“Fine, but it did help clear my head. So. Thanks. I guess.”

Seven smirked.

“Alright, the plan. Let’s talk to Four first. He needs to understand that for this to work, he needs to talk to her one on one. And it has to be her call. We can’t influence her. If she wants in, fine but they need to work through their shit. And if she says no? Then we let her walk back to her life. And Four needs to respect that. He has to let her go." 

"Easier said than done. I’ve seen his face when he looks at pictures of her on his phone." 

"Yeah well, bet you didn’t know he’s also been following her? Keeping watch over her via surveillance tapes? And tracking her home?”

That brought Seven up short, "No? What the fuck?”

“I know. If it was anybody else’s story I would have called the cops ages ago. As it is, it’s kind of romantic" 

**_~A Week Later~_ **

"We’re all ghosts down here. Except, we don’t float. One because gravity’s intact and two because I’m not a cannibalistic clown." 

"Could’ve fooled me." 

"Didn’t know I recruited fucking Tina Fey over here. Anyway, here’s headquarters. Or home sweet home.” One said in that same drole way he had of phrasing everything. 

Walking through the punishing desert to get to the graveyard of felled planes had caused a shiver to pass through her. She did her best to suppress it but it was difficult. Passing through the giant hulking masses of steel caused her to feel like she was encroaching on the territory of ancient deities. The area felt loaded with their silence, the carnage keeping a silent watch as their footfalls disrupted the grains of sand that were being buffeted by the wind that swirled through the gaping openings in the bellies of the planes. 

It had been a week since she’d been discharged from the hospital, well, not hospital, but the private sanctuary One had kept her at while she healed.

He had come into her room the day after he had left his card, shock on his face at seeing her sitting up, arms crossed. 

“What the hell do you do and how do I fit into it?" 

The single eyebrow she raised at One prompted him to explain, in detail, everything they did and what it would entail. 

She’d been silent, eyes focused on his face, not making any sounds or moving until he finished his spiel. Then nodding, she asked one question, 

"When do I start?" 

He explained that her death would be easy to fake since she had technically almost died anyway. What he he hadn’t told her was he hadn’t made it public just yet, he didn’t want to make her brother and friend worry too much. Or give them a false alarm only for her to waltz back from the dead if she couldn’t handle being with Four. 

So, here she was, following One up the stairs of the largest plane carcass. Pushing aside the plastic curtains that did their best to keep sunlight, sand and bugs out, he extended an arm in an exaggerated bow. 

"I do hope it’s to your liking Princess." 

"Don’t call me that you prick.” She murmured as she breezed past him, pausing in the doorway to let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of the plane after being out in the searing sunlight. 

The main room held more computer monitors than she had ever seen. She thought Mark’s setup of four monitors had been impressive but the wall of screens staring back at her made her realize how rookie their operation had been. 

A large silver table in the middle held a commanding presence and she knew, instinctively, that One felt most comfortable at the head of it, barking orders while still being able to hit the group in front of him with a sarcastic jab or two. 

Taking a few hesitant steps forward she peered at the weapons lining the back wall. Snorting, she gestured to it lazily, turning her head to pierce One with a gaze, “You preparing for the apocalypse or do I require this much of a security detail?" 

One’s face broke into a fake smile as he leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees as he wheezed a few times, "Oh my god, sweetheart, oh god, please, stop, my stomach, it can’t take the hilarity anymore, please, god.” With that last word the smile dropped from his face and he stood up straight, crossing his arms over his chest, 

“We’re a group of vigilantes that have a specific subset of skills that makes us some of the most dangerous people on the planet. We go after the people that are even more dangerous than us. You think we just talk about our feelings and politely ask them to stop committing human rights atrocities?" 

Brushing past her he shook his head, "Unbelievable.” Muttering about new blood while he started down the hallway. 

Eyes dancing over the various boards lighting up, she had the unmistakable sense that someone was watching her. One had told her there were five more that she would meet so she wondered if one of them was about to jump her as a weird sort of initiation. 

But when she turned her head to the entrance, there was nothing. 

Just the wind, blowing the plastic flaps back and forth. Scanning over the area she could have sworn the darkest corners contained something that was intrigued with her. Taking a hesitant step forward, One’s voice jolted her out of her paranoia, “Hey, Amy Poehler, you coming to share more of your classic wit with the whole class or are you just going to dilly dick around all day? C'mon, I’m a busy man." 

"Coming!” She yelled back, turning on her heel to jog down the hallway after him, turning her head one last time to make sure no ghosts were following. 

~

Billy breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that today was the day he’d have to face her. He and One had discussed it extensively last night. One had been adamant, don’t get attached to her being on the team before she explicitly says she wants to stick around, you know the rules, I know Seven changed things a little but this is getting into a whole new territory of softness and on and on while Billy had just sat there, taking it. 

One finally ran out of steam (Billy wondered, not for the first time, if One had a coke addiction to get all the energy he needed) and Billy nodded his head, chewing over everything One had just said. He opened his mouth, preparing to show One how much he understood, how this was him only looking out for the team and adding a valuable asset. What came out of his mouth surprised him and One, 

“I love her. I need her or else I won’t make it through this life alive.” He lifted his eyes to One and One took a sharp intake of breath. He had never seen Billy so open, so vulnerable. Even when he had been on the brink of dying, twice. 

Searching his blue eyes, One sighed, dragging a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut as he scrubbed at his hair, groaning, “Fuck me, I must be getting soft in my old age. FINE. But remember. You have to talk to her. If you two can’t work through your shit, she’s gone. Poof. Vamoose. Got that? This is her choice. She gets to make the call if she stays, if she wants to work with you and if she leaves. Not you. Capisce?”

Billy nodded, trying his hardest to mask the eagerness he felt at the possibility of being with (Y/N) again. Being around her light, feeling that same pull into her warmth. 

So, how could anyone blame him for wanting to see her as soon as she stepped foot into headquarters? 

He had lurked in the shadows, pulling his hood over his hair, making sure his eyes were concealed. His eyes were her favorite part of him, she had told him during those amazing 24 hours they had shared together. 

Billy couldn’t believe it had been 365 days since they had seen each other. It felt like it had gone by so fast. But then again, he’d been all over the world, fighting bad guys and overthrowing dictators, (Y/N) had been living her life. 

And started Sky Walker training which he was going to have to talk to her about _that._

When she walked in, Billy had shrank even farther into the shadows, biting his tongue till he tasted blood, so he wouldn’t scream out her name. 

It was still the same (Y/N) he’d fallen in love with, longer hair, more muscles but what really threw him was her eyes. They were the same color but the warmth that he had come to love was extinguished. Replaced with a flinty resolve that if anyone talked or looked at her, they would get their ass kicked. 

It was the first time that he started to wonder if maybe this was the best idea. And let himself ponder the idea that she could potentially say no. That she wouldn’t want to see him. That she would never be able to forgive him.

But he needed to know. He needed to try, he needed to show up for himself and for her. To show her that he still loved her, that he had always loved her. 

Stepping out of the shadows, he pulled his hood down, making his way to the meeting room where they’d be waiting for him. 

It wasn’t till he brought his hand down from his hood that he realized his hands were shaking.

~

 _“Hola, Papi_. Who’s this lovely lady sitting here? My birthday isn’t until next week.” Three smirked as he pulled a chair out for himself, aiming a lazy wink at (Y/N). Her months of seducing men just like him in bars kicked in and she winked back, letting a slow smile crawl across her face. 

An intimidating blonde woman kicked his chair as she sank into her own, “I meet your mother and this is the thanks I get?" 

"You know I didn’t mean it _mi amor_. I’ve only got eyes for you.”

“And apparently any other attractive woman in a six mile radius.” She extended her hand to (Y/N), “I’m Two. Nice to meet you.”

Grasping Two’s hand in her own, she shook it, impressed with the strength of the woman’s grip. 

“Well, since you and Two are so happy together, this is my time to shine. I’m Seven.” Seven grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his lips and pressed a kiss to it, holding her prone in his stare. He pulled back, winking at her and she felt a blush climb into her cheeks, “(Y/N). You have a much better chance than Three does at getting into these Nike leggings." 

Seven’s jaw dropped as One made a retching noise and Five stepped forward, extending her hand "I don’t want to get into your leggings but I’m glad there’s someone else here who’s trained to keep these idiots alive." 

(Y/N) shook her hand, smiling back at her, "Surprised they’ve lasted this long with just one doctor.”

“You and me both.” Rolling her eyes she turned to One, “This the one we picked up from Casewell’s joint?” 

“The very same” was One’s reply as he flicked through the folder in his hands. 

Five’s eyebrows rose up as a low whistle escaped her lips, “Shit. Well, I’m definitely glad you came around then. I’m assuming you’re the one who brought the vile of polonium?” 

(Y/N) nodded, very aware of every eye in the room assessing her, sizing her up. It was like being in a room with Cassandra but multiplied by five.

“We saw you in action. Very impressive.” Two chimed in, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Everyone else nodded as she tried her best to tamp out the flush of appreciation building in her cheeks. Snorting, she deflected, “Thanks. I guess you guys couldn’t have stepped in earlier to help, huh?” 

“Sweetheart that’s not really our style. And in case you missed the chopper outside the building, we’re very particular about our style.” Flinging the folder down on the table, One braced his hands on the back of a chair, “So, now you’ve met everyone. The whole Brady Bunch of chucklefucks before you.” 

(Y/N) had been mentally going over everyone’s names in her head, when she furrowed her brow, "Hold on, either I’m dumber than I thought or your numbers are all out of whack. Where are Six and Four?”

Seven flicked his eyes to Two. Five shifted in her seat, opening her mouth when One cut her off, “Six is no longer with us and Four will be in shortly. I wanted you to meet the whole team first, get a feel for us, then meet Four and make your decision if you’d want to stay with us.”

Cocking her head she flicked her eyes to One, “Why? Is Four like a 4Chan meninist who hates women? Why would he be the catalyst for whether I stay or go?" 

Since meeting him, this was the first time she had seen One at a loss for words. It made her pulse speed up, clenching her hands into fists she tried to ignore the moisture that had started to accumulate on her palms. 

One opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, only to sigh and rub the bridge of his nose as he moved to the door of the meeting room they had been in, "It’s probably easier if we just get this over with. Alright. Everyone out. C'mon hurry up.” He waved his hands impatiently at the rest of the team standing around. Reluctantly they all started to move, Seven and Three grumbling about how they didn’t want to miss any of the drama. Everyone stopped when her chair clattered to the floor, hands clenched at her sides as she took a step toward the door. 

“What drama? One? What’s going on?” She hated how shaky her voice came out but she couldn’t help it. What did they mean? Was Four their muscle? Was it a weird hazing thing? Would she have to try to kill this person? Try to make it out of this room alive? 

One was standing half in and half out of the doorway, hand closed over the door knob. Turning back, he locked eyes with her (Y/E/C) ones. 

Her blood ran cold. He looked, sorry. Almost like he pitied her. She was pretty sure One didn't have feelings so to see this much emotion directed at her? 

She was terrified. 

“It’ll all make sense. Just…do what you think is right. Okay? You seem like a smart kid. Trust your gut.”

And with those cryptic words he left, shutting the door. Sealing her in to wait for this new threat to emerge. 

~

One walked out of the conference room and ran right into Billy. 

“Jesus, kid. Any closer to me and you’d need to buy me dinner and drinks before that shit.”

Billy’s eyes looked right through One, “Is she in there? What did you tell her? What’s she like? What did she say?" 

One held up his hands to cut off the avalanche of questions, "Yes. The bare minimum by introducing her to everyone. She’s like how she was a few minutes ago when you were spying on her, don’t think I didn’t see you, and she hasn’t said anything that I would write home to my own mother about. Oh, except she did tell Seven he could get into her Nike leggings." 

Billy’s eye widened and he twisted his body to where the sounds of the team were filtering back to the two of them, "I’ll kill him myself if he even laid a fucking hand on her, I swear to god.”

“Woah, hey kid. Easy. It was just some harmless flirting and besides, (Y/N)’s a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. You don’t get to dictate who she does and doesn’t sleep with.”

Billy’s eyes were unfocused as he clenched and unclenched his hands. One took stock of the bundle of nerves before him and felt his shoulders droop a little. 

It was times like this that really drove home young Four was. He was the most vulnerable (in terms of emotions and in how little protection he had during missions) and after hearing how he really felt about (Y/N), well, it caused One’s own shriveled heart to grow two sizes too big after hearing it. 

Even though sometimes when he heard her name, he could still feel Billy’s hand clamping down around his windpipe. 

He didn’t fault Four for it. Seeing how she reacted at the sight of Four’s grave almost made him cave and push Four forward, yelling at her to stop crying.

It ripped his heart apart, especially because it made him think about the family he still had out there. 

Sighing, he placed his hands on Billy’s tense shoulders, feeling the muscles and sinews so tight he was surprised they didn’t snap, “Hey. Hey. Look at me.” Billy dragged his eyes away from the door and to One’s face, “Don’t go in there all freaked out. I think I already stressed her out a little bit so…be cool, okay? And remember, respect her decision. I’ll give you all the space you need if she leaves but…respect her choice. That’s top priority. Got it?” One gave Four’s shoulders a gentle shake so he knew that Four had heard what he’d said. 

Feeling Four’s joints loosen as he took stock of his words, One slapped him on the back as he walked back down the hallway, “Also, just a heads up, we will be watching this whole interaction over the feeds so just keep that in mind if you two decide to start fucking." 

~

(Y/N) had been pacing the perimeter of the room, checking for cracks, a hidden door, something so she could get out of here alive. She didn’t have any weapons on her. Well, except a Swiss Army knife but that barely counted. 

Running her finger tips over the walls she felt her heart clench as she looked at her busted fingernails. They were cropped short and bare. She missed her pink sparkly nail polish. She carried it with her everywhere though. She always figured that when she started feeling better she’d paint her nails again. So far, it was still unopened. 

Hearing the door knob turn she inhaled sharply, whipping around so her back was pressed into the farthest corner of the room. Her fists clenched and her thighs prepared to pounce or run, whichever came first. Hearing her heart pounding in her chest she took a deep steadying breath as the door opened wider, allowing light to come spilling in, illuminating a silhouette in the doorway. 

She couldn’t make out any features under the hood they were wearing. The light in the room was dim and compared to the fluorescent lighting in the hallway, she had to squint to try to make out any features this individual had. Her heart beat sped up the tiniest bit when she realized the figure was built like Billy. 

Then the figure cleared their throat and closed the door behind them. Taking cautious steps into the light. She opened her mouth, "Are-are you Four?” The figure stopped abruptly and nodded in response to her question. She wondered briefly if they were a mute as she ran a hand through her hair. 

Billy’s heart almost fell out of his chest when he saw that her hand was shaking as she pushed her hair out of her face. He so badly wanted to be the one to do that he had to plant his feet more firmly on the floor so he wouldn’t race to her.

“They, uh, they haven’t assigned me a number yet and I know you all don’t do names here so, I guess we gotta wait for me to really introduce myself but I’m the new recruit. It’s nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, stepping forward. 

After a tense moment, Billy extended his. 

She cocked her head to the side when she noticed Four’s hand was shaking. She looked up at him but she still couldn’t make out his face with the lighting and his hood. She could just see his bottom lip and she was surprised when she felt her stomach clench at the sight of how full and pink it was. 

Looking down, she clasped her hand in his and felt her blood run cold. 

Running along Four’s fingers were tattoos.

Tattoos that were identical to the kind that Billy had. 

Lifting her head up seemed to take an eternity to Billy. 

He held his breath as her other hand reached up, index finger extended, shaking like a leaf in a storm as she brought it within millimeters of making contact with the tattoos she had traced so lovingly during those 24 hours. 

“You _bastard_." 


End file.
